


Denial's one hell of a drug

by ratdude



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Dumbass in love Richie Tozier, Everyone's a moron, Fix-It, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Pining, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-23 23:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20898263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratdude/pseuds/ratdude
Summary: Richie laughed before poking his forehead again to which he retaliated by jamming his elbow into his gut, “Ow! Alright I’ll quit jesus-” he thought he’d back up then but Richie only stopped prodding him, instead settling on resting his arms on his hospital bed, one of his hands cradling his head in support as he continued to grin fondly at Eddie, “but yeah Mike’s right. We’re not leaving, you’re stuck with us till death do you part buddy.”Richie stuck his tongue out childishly at Eddie, who looked back at him deadpanned.“God I hope I flatline.”





	Denial's one hell of a drug

**Author's Note:**

> Eddie survives. 
> 
> He goes back home to live the rest of his life normally, being an upper middle class working joe until the day he dies content, in the loving arms of his wife, from old age.
> 
> Unfortunately for him, life doesn't give a shit about his game plan.

His thumb grazed his phone contacts screen, looking down in the dark at the bright screen, his eyes glazed over. He kept scrolling down and up aimlessly, getting dangerously closer and closer to clicking on Richies number, before scrolling down quick again.

At this point it had gotten into a kind of routine. He’d put on his nightwear, a simple silk black set that he liked since it felt nice on his skin, and crawl into bed around eleven at night. He’d take out his phone and scroll aimlessly as Myra slept by his side. She usually went to bed a couple hours earlier than him and be comatose by the time he was ready to sleep. She snored faintly as he once again found himself back in his contacts, before once again clicking out.

When Eddie had finally come back home his wife had cried into his arms for a few hours. She hadn’t heard from him for a couple weeks and when she finally got word of what happened to her dear husband from a strange number, after their fourth attempt in getting in contact with her to which she finally answered, she had broke down.

It was from the Derry hospital. He had barely survived, it was a fucking miracle he did.

Richie had told him his insides looked like some kind of liquefied organ orgy when they had dragged him in. Also that they killed the clown, with no help from him of course. He had tried to retort something back to him but all that came out of his mouth was a garbled stream of blood.

He at least got to look at Richies horrified face before the nurses put him under again.

The doctors had told his wife that he had gotten stabbed and impaled, a violent mugging where the criminals had tried to dispose of his body over a bridge, where he had fallen on a particularly sharp rock that shredded his insides.

It wasn’t the most...elaborate cover story but it sure as hell beat getting transported to a psych ward for claiming an alien clown who lived in the sewers and fed off the fear of children speared him in retaliation for jamming a metal bar down his throat.

The only thing he could really remember after getting stabbed was the feeling of someone's hands slapping his face over and over. He also remembered talking to people but he couldn’t remember about what. His brain was all white noise at that point that he would have been surprised if it all wasn’t just garbled indistinctive mush. Everything hurt so fucking much. There was nothing more he wanted to do then just… stop feeling. At one point he felt himself letting go before another slap brought him back.

He was fucking enraged, he was dieing and someone was just hitting him- could they not just let him die in peace? He was ready, he lived an O.K. life, lots of regrets but fuck nobodys perfect. After another slap he tried to open his mouth to tell them to fuck off but could only manage a feeble mumble before passing out.

The doctors told him that on all accounts he _should_ have died, always reassuring news. They said they had never seen anyone’s body so stubborn on not giving out. After making sure he was stable enough to get visitors they opened the door and, like a flood, the losers had came in all at once, almost tripping over themselves to get to Eddie first. He was suddenly surrounded by his best friends beaming at him and touching him gently, ruffling his hair, shaking his shoulder, the non bandaged up bits.

They all stayed in that cramped hospital room for a while, laughing and sobbing, all emotional barriers down as they all collectively rejoiced, wallowing under the green dim shine of the hospital ceiling lights.

He was surprised when they all stayed with him until he was able to leave.

“You guys know I’m going to make a full recovery right? You don’t all have to sit here and wait for me to start walking again.”

“No way man.” Mike suddenly said, looking over at him from the chair he was sitting in at the edge of the room. It was just him and Richie now while the others were out getting pizza for everyone, “loser club stays together, we’re not leaving until you can.”

He furrowed his brow and was about to protest again until Richie, who was sitting on his right, leaned over and poked his forehead, where his frown lines were forming, “you gotta stop frowning dude, you already have like a billion wrinkles on your forehead-”

He slapped his hand away with a ‘_fuck off!_’ before glaring at Richie, who was smiling toothily at him, “look who's talking you ancient shit, at least my foreheads normal sized- you look like some kind of hairless bigfoot.”

Richie laughed before poking his forehead again to which he retaliated by jamming his elbow into his gut, “_Ow!_ Alright I’ll quit jesus-” he thought he’d back up then but Richie only stopped prodding him, instead settling on resting his arms on his hospital bed, one of his hands cradling his head in support as he continued to grin fondly at Eddie, “but yeah Mike’s right. We’re not leaving, you’re stuck with us till death do you part buddy.”

Richie then stuck his tongue out childishly at Eddie, who looked back at him deadpanned.

“God I hope I flatline.” he said.

After he was finally discharged from the hospital, everyone went out for a celebratory meal. Bill had been adamant on going back to the Chinese restaurant for laughs but the rest of them still felt a little sore from the last time with all the evil demonic babies and whatnot so they all decided to settle on some small Indian place instead.

It was busy, they came during the lunch rush and it took about an hour and a half to get their food. At one point he got water spilled on his shoulder. When he ordered he accidentally misspoke and asked for 'nanne' instead of 'naan' and Richie had teased him about it for the rest of the meal. It was the best dining experience of his life.

After lunch everyone exchanged numbers and got all teary eyed and emotional. All the losers had promised to keep in contact before they had left Derry and call each other all the time. And for the most part he kept that promise...for everyone except Richie.

Before everyone had left Derry, Richie had stopped him, wanting to have a quick chat with him before they left to go back home.

They had decided to walk around town, starting at the hospital so Eddie could grab his pain meds before heading back to the hotel.

“No seriously he really beat my ass.”

“No he fucking didn’t-”

“I’m not lying!” Richie said, playfully turning to eddie his eyes big and open, trying to look as innocent as possible, “Samuel L. Jackson told me and I fucking quote ‘_Tozier one more smart ass comeback and the next thing you’re going to be seeing is heavens pearly white gates-”_

“And then you tell him ‘_I’m actually jewish_’ I’ve heard this bit before you lying asshole,” Eddie interrupted crossing his arms in mock annoyance.

Richie laughed throwing his head back before looking back down at him mirthfully,”Alright yeah you got me- also just so you know that was the worst me impersonation I’ve ever heard, were you even trying?”

“Hah! Nice side tracking a-hole,” Eddie shot back, bringing his hand up to point at him accusingly, “bullshit stories aside, have you ever actually even met the guy? Don’t you celebrities all hang with each other or whatever?”

Richie hummed, looking up as if in thought as he scratched his chin with his ring finger, “I think- one time we played pool together… I was also completely shit faced so it could have been just someone who looked _extremely_ like him. Whoever it was _did_ actually give me two black eyes.”

Eddie looked at him interestedly, a grin already forming in anticipation, “What the fuck did you do?”

“He started choking and I- before you judge me I was drunk and also on like a teeny weeny bit of cocaine too,” eddie looked at him, eyebrows raising into his hairline as his mouth started twitching into a laugh, “- so he was choking and I couldn’t remember if you’re supposed to give them CPR or the Heimlich remover so- I took a wild guess right-”

Before he could finish Eddie erupted in laughter and Richie joined in immediately. They laughed in unison for a little. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed himself like this, it was a good feeling. He had been so caught up in their conversation that he almost missed the street where his car was parked. Was their hotel really this close to the hospital?

“Shit that was fast,”

“Not really, we’ve been walking around for like an hour now.”

Eddie gave him a quick unconvinced glance before pulling out his phone to look at the time, “oh- yeah nevermind I guess you're right, time flies I guess.”

He pocketed his phone before taking out his keys, which he proceeded to swing around his index finger. He looked over at Richie, “want me to give you a ride back to your car?”

“Naw I’m only a block from here it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh alright,” he felt a flair of disappointment rise in him. He and Richie had talked constantly while he was healing up at the hospital but the other losers had been there too. Not that he was complaining of course, he loved all of them and was thankful they had stayed to make sure he was going to be alright. But now suddenly, standing there in the shade of the church he parked by, he felt something bubbling in his chest that he didn’t get with the other losers. Something about Richie just made him gravitate towards him, just like when they were kids, slapping him away and in the next second tackling him to the ground. It was funny how much he craved the attention of someone he didn’t even remember existed for most of his life.

He was already missing him and they hadn’t even fucking left yet.

He sucked it up and extended his hand out to him, “Well I guess, then this is-”

“There is actually something I wanted to tell you.”

Eddie drew back his hand and looked at him curiously. He wanted to respond with something like _‘What? Are you dying or something?’_ but Richie had a weird expression on his face that he had never seen before. He suddenly realized, with shock, that it was seriousness, “what is it?”

Richie looked away from him his hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, his eyes focused on something over his head as he cleared his throat, “I just wanted to let you know that… I’m pretty sure I’m...you know gay.”

Eddie side eyed him before breaking out a slightly wary grin, “what… like you like men?”

“Yeah man.”

Eddie kept staring at him in disbelief, waiting for him to continue the bit, until he realized that yeah this wasn’t a bit and Richie was suddenly staring at him again waiting for him to say something. So he said “Oh shit seriously?” like that’s something you would say to someone who just said something insanely personal to you.

“Yeah also in the past I was kinda...in love with you.”

What the fuck? He felt his mouth suddenly dry up and his mind go blank. What the fuck?

“Ah...alright”

He tried to keep his voice level but his face must have betrayed him because Richie suddenly brought both his hands out in front of them. He had his palms facing towards Eddie as if trying to calm him, or reassure him, he didn't know, his mind was still trying to get around the whole being in love with him part, “I swear to god I’m not hitting on you, I just-” Richie suddenly let out a long breath and paused, his eyes slanting in concentration, as if he was thinking how to phrase his next words, “I just...needed to tell you that before all of us left. Back as a kid I hid that part of myself deep deep down and to have all that shit resurface as soon as I came back… fucking sucked. I don’t want to keep burying that shit and forcing myself to forget about it. I feel like if I told you of all people it could help me you know...move forward I guess? I don’t feel any different yet so maybe I just made this real fucking awkward. Feel free to stop me whenever you want by the way.”

At what time in the past thirty minutes did he swallow a handful of sand? His mouth had no business being this dry. He cleared his throat, “Oh well uh… that makes sense, I mean not that I ever realized you were...you know… but I appreciate it thank you.”

Richie suddenly laughed breaking the tension, “did you just thank me for being in love with you? You’re so weird.”

Eddie’s face reddened as he almost instinctually sputtered out, “Oh- you know what? Go fuck yourself-”

Richie laughed again and he didn’t know if it was from some kind of defense mechanism or if he actually did find all this actually funny because he cracked a smile right back at him. The tension that had built up around them in that short amount of time had gone just as fast and everything felt normal with them again. It was in good nature when he looked at him teasingly, “so...what..… you had a thing for guys with fanny packs?”

Richie looked at him, a delightfully surprised glint in his eye, as if he couldn’t believe that he was still talking with him, “either that or the fake asthma, I mean- can you blame me? You were the towns germaphobe heartthrob. You were like if a hospital ever became a real life person.”

“Oh you’re so fucking funny, you’re fucking hilarious.”

And just like that they were laughing again. Yes his best friend had confessed to him, or more like a past version of himself, but Eddie understood, it wasn’t in a heartfelt kinda way, it was Richie coming to terms with himself. Eddie also noted Richie even looked a little lighter, his smile a little more toothy, more relaxed as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him.

Things had fallen back into their usual normalcy of bickering and teasing each other until they had finally decided to say goodbye. Eddie forlorned his usual formal handshake for a quick loosed armed hug instead that Richie had happily accepted, breaking the sweet unexpected moment after a couple seconds to give the smaller man a gentle noogie. It was only until Eddie had driven off, his smile slowly dissipating, that he felt something strange settle in his stomach. It’s like his nerves had reignited and, much to his annoyance, he had no fucking idea why. He chalked it up to nothing and drove home silently, back to his grieving part time widow.

Instead of going away the bundle of nerves reappeared the first time Richie had tried to call him.

  
He had shakily dropped his phone and instead of picking it up let it go to voicemail. The second time Richie called it was when he was at work, where he employed a strict no personal phone call policy when with a client, so that one really wasn’t his fault. The third time he did actually pick up, only to tell Richie halfway into his greeting that he could only chat for a little since his client was waiting on him.

_“Ain’t no rest for the wicked.”_

“Yeah I don’t know if it’s something in the air or what but I’ve had to deal with so many fucking idiots up the ass recently who have never even seen a risk report in their life- despite being multi millionaire businessmen- it’s frustrating.”

_“No worries man, just call or text whenever you want to catch up- I wanna hear all about the crazy shenanigans of risk analyzing.”_

He didn’t realize until later that Richie was poking fun at him.“Thanks Rich, will do man.”

That was about a week ago and since then he’s had more than enough time to call him, not that he had.

He stared down at his phone again, nearly biting his tongue in half from the unbearable task of calling his childhood best friend.

Why was he this nervous about a phone call? So what if his best friend had been in love with him, it didn’t mean still had those feelings for him. Richie had shared something personal with him and in turn he had ignored a couple of his calls and been intentionally ignoring him. The only reason it was a big deal was because he was making it one and _fuck_ was he the biggest asshole on earth or what?

Eddie gave out a frustrated sigh as he combed a hand through his hair. He got up from the bed, going to the bathroom and shutting the door, in hopes that the seclusion could keep his nerves from killing him.

_‘Stop being a bitch and call Tozier you asshole’_ he thought to himself. He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to will at least his mirror self to do something he couldn’t.

He had bags under his eyes, the ugly puffy kind. Sleep hadn't been too kind on him recently. When he came back home the first day he had spent most of the day just in bed, consoling his wife, brushing a hand down her hair as she sobbed. He then had to call his angry clients and explain to them why he had missed so many consultation meetings. Despite hearing about his near death experience many of them hadn't been too forgiving and told him they had found someone else to replace him.

What made him more uneasy then anything was the sudden normalcy of everyday life again. After everything that had happened in Derry doing normal errands shit, like getting groceries or running and graphing out risk reports again, made him feel empty. Everything was just how it was before and yet...it was all so much worse. It was like he was living his life but now shackled to it, forced to experience the joy of staying alive on auto-pilot. As edgy and pathetic as it was, the realest part of his life now was the Derry nightmares he'd have every other night. One night, after he had jerked so hard out of sleep and had woken up his wife, she had stared down at him, nearly pulling his hair out rocking on the bed, and told him that he needed some serious help. 'I knew you shouldn't have gone there' she chastised him 'I told you and you went anyways! Thugs are like dogs, they can sniff out men who can't defend themselves and then they pounce! It was only a matter of time until you were-' before she could finish she burst into tears. Everything was so messed up now but honestly even _before_ everything that had happened in Derry, he would still only barely be able to drag himself through most of his day. He'd argue with his wife, go to work, argue with his clients, go home, apologize for arguing to his wife, sit and watch T.V. and fall asleep thinking about about how he'd have to do this everyday until he died at the tender age of 50, in his sleep hopefully. If he was fucked up then he was like some kind of anthropoid blunder on humanity now. He was a ball of pure anger and fear that god had accidentally let loose in the wild as a joke, not meant to actually survive, just someone to kinda laugh at. 

He wondered how the fuck anyone could ever fall in love with him. Was he really so different in the past?

He pussied out and clicked on Beverlys name.

She answered on the second ring, _“Oh hiiii Eddie.”_

“Are you drunk?”

_“No this is Bev! I do not know who this Mr Drunk is but let me find him for you,”_ he heard a shuffling sound as what sounded to be a very intoxicated Bev calling loudly for a Mr Drunk from far away, _“ahh yes I do believe I have found him! Let me put you on hold for just a moment.”_

After a couple seconds of muffled giggling and some more shuffling a very chipper gravely voice answered.

_“Hey eddie!”_

He sat on the toilet seat in defeat. He'd call him tomorrow. ”You guys sound fucking hammered,”

_“I’ve only had a couple glasses,”_ Ben replied, laughing as a very muffled Bev yelled ‘liar’ in the background, _“alright and a couple of shots but I promise you I’m not drunk. I can handle my booze a lot better than ...others…...”_

Another yell from Bev in the background, Eddie couldn't make out what she said but it had Ben laughing again. He suddenly realized he was smiling,

_“Just calling to chat?”_ Ben said.

“Yeah but you guys seem a little busy so I’ll just call you another time.”

_“Oh alright, well call soon ok? We love hearing from you, we should all get together again soon.”_

“Yeah, yeah of course.”

_“Eddie wait- Eddie hold on-”_ Bev suddenly said grabbing the phone back from Ben, her breath rushed,_” I need to tell you something.”_

“What is it?”

_“I love you,”_ she replied. She slurred out the ‘love’ and dragged out the ‘you’ twice as long. Eddie felt his heart swell, eyes prickling just a little bit as he blinked a few times to hold back a couple tears.

“I know, I love you too Bev you fucking sap.”

_____

“What the hell are these?”

Eddie entered the bathroom, accusingly holding out a bottle of pills. His wife was lavishly laying in the tub, her eyes closed as she shifted her legs in the water but otherwise pointedly ignoring him. He loudly rattled its contents until she finally glanced over at him, her lips pursed in annoyance, “What?”

“You _cannot_ keep doing this,” Eddie started, his voice rising in pitch in hysterics as he started walking around the small dimly lit bathroom, ”we’ve talked about this it’s fucking illegal like- you know that right? It’s fucking illegal and not to mention ethically this entire situation-”

“Dr. Huang only wants you to be healthy dear-”

“Cut the shit Myra,” Eddie interrupted. She gasped indignantly, her hand fluttering over her heart as if she was just verbally shanked, “ I’m not going to jail because you have this sick twisted motion I’m going crazy, it’s only a couple of nightmares a week-”

“Eddie.” she said forceful, stopping him. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as she rolled over to the edge of the tub to grab a lighter from the lip; slowly relighting some of the candles that were extinguished from the force of the door he threw open on his way in. “Do you see how hysterical you’re being? Over a bottle of pills?”

“It’s not the fucking pills _sweetheart_,” he seethed the endearment through his teeth. This wasn’t irrational anger, he was in the right to be this upset. He wasn’t crazy but his wifes was sure the fuck trying to push him over the edge, “lieing to a therapist to get drugs not meant for you is fraud. It’s not that hard to figure it out either! What are you going to do when they need a urine sample for all these drugs your not taking?”

“They won’t,” she says, and she says it with such conviction he wants to just shake her, not hard, just enough until she realizes how careless and dumb she’s being, “me and Dr. Huang have worked everything out- all we need you to do is get better.”

He realizes he’s shaking, “I am getting better.”

She finally does look over him now, and there’s pity in her stare, and it’s like pure oil getting thrown on his already raging fire, “you’re not ...and you won’t until you let me help you- I dont understand why you’re so against taking _harmless_ medication.”

He’s on fire.“You think forcing me to take medication is helping? You’re so deluded- if I wanted to take meds I’d take meds, you’re just forcing this on me because you need to- to make me do everything your way! You need to be in control for whatever fucking reason!”

She’s raising her voice now too, “One day you’ll thank me- trauma like what you went through doesn’t just go away! For god’s sake Eddie-”

He’s melting. “I can’t fucking handle this right now- we’ll talk later about this, I’ve got to get to work-”

Before he could leave the bathroom his wife cried out his name, and he stopped, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, softly thudding his head against the edge of the door in frustration, “_yes_ Myra?”

She didn’t reply to that, so after a couple seconds he turned around sharply, his patience already worn so thin, _“what?”_

She looked a little hurt from his curt response and god he realized he couldn't give less of a shit when suddenly she tapped her cheek and peered at him so innocently, like she didn’t just commit a felony, like she wasn’t evil incarnate, “don’t leave angry Eddie, give me a goodbye kiss.”

A vivid memory of his mother suddenly lurched into his mind and it was like someone gut punched him. Honestly he’d prefer it over the sick acidic taste suddenly bubbling up his throat. His mom suddenly beckoned to him again and her chair squeaked as she rocked slowly, impatiently, looking at him from across the living room. He was ten years old again and stupid with a suit too tight and a briefcase too heavy. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to run away. Instead like some kind of trained dog he walked up to her and awkwardly kneeled down. He didn’t even register his tie slowly dipping into the water as he bent his head down, brain stuck in auto pilot. She stuck out her cheek expectedly and obediently he kissed it. It was chaste.

“Drive safe sweetheart.”

He fantasized about a car crash as he drove to work.

_____

It was a couple weeks later when he finally snapped.

His wife had told him to bundle up since it was getting colder. He had told her he was well aware of how cold it was and that a jacket was fine.

She had protested and told him that it was supposed to rain and he had responded with, ‘Yes Myra my sweet, and that is why I’m bringing my handy dandy fucking umbrella’.

Their small argument had kept escalating until they were both screaming at each other beyond reason. She called him ungrateful, a spazz, and he had finally had the courage to look her in the eyes and tell her cruelly, softly, ‘your handmade candles are fucking shit.’

He had to tell his angry client that he was late to their meeting on account of getting divorced.

Life surprisingly didn’t change too much after that. His wife had of course kept the house, it was a gift from her parents anyways, but he got to leave with the microwave _and_ their portable air purifier so who was the real winner really. He could have taken more but all of the furniture they bought together he hated anyway so it wasn’t too hard of a loss.

It was a tight squeeze but it only took one car trip to take his forty years of belongings over to his new place.He hadn’t been too keen on the one hundred and twenty two dollars a night for the hotel he decided to stay in but it’s not like he had much of a choice. Not unless he wanted to stay at the seedy motel a couple streets down and undoubtedly become an acquaintance to some drug related murder which knowing his luck he’d get blamed for somehow. The sheets were clean and the carpet was stain free so he was content...kind of.

He felt like a ticking time bomb. He was waiting for the moment to come where he would break down, call Myra to beg her to take him back, tell her he’d be good and do whatever she wanted, take the fucking medication or whatever. But the more time passed the quieter the ticking became, the less his anxiety skyrocketed when his phone rang. One night, he realized that he was alone in his hotel, and he could turn the T.V. volume above forty five without getting reprimanded by his ex-wife and her delicate ears. _His_ ears were ringing with what was undoubtedly the early onslaught of tinnitus by the time a hotel attendee had knocked on his door and told him it was eleven and they were getting complaints from some of the other hotel patrons. He turned down the T.V. sheepishly then but not even that could bring down his mood. He could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Before he could finish the rest of his plans that night, eating an entire bag of Cheetos and a quick jack in bed, his phone lit up with a small ‘ding’ from a message. He picked it up from the bed curiously.

It was a loop of a video image from Bev of a pomeranian falling over a small set of stairs comically. He chuckled before scrolling down to see the text she sent under it.

**How R U?**

After a moment to think about how he’d break the news to her he went with:

**Good, eating a microwave dinner meant for one, since im divorced now.**

She sent him three shocked emojis before calling him immediately which he happily answered on the first ring. They talked about their marriages then. How she married her dad, how he married his mom, how fucking terrible the whole ordeal had been. He told her he had wanted to leave her for so long but could never stomach being by himself again, having no one there to coddle him, which is what dragged him to her in the first place. He couldn't believe he hadn’t figured all of it out earlier and Beverly had gotten emotional then and told him he was so brave and she was so proud of him.

Now he was sitting at the tiny kitchen counter, staring down at his contacts screen, Bev’s ‘you’re so brave’ replaying like a mantra in his head. He could do this, he was brave. He sat there for a couple more seconds, building up courage, before quickly clicking Richies number before he could psyche himself out. He held his breath as he brought the phone to his ear, waiting for Richie to pick up, full of nerves for _still absolutely_ no fucking reason.

Not that it mattered since he didn’t even end up picking up and the call went to voicemail. ‘It’s Richie… you know what to do’. Eddie was surprised how normal his voicemail sounded. But he guessed he probably got a lot of professional calls from his line of work and needed to keep it classy. He suddenly realized that he’d just been breathing into the voicemail and he quickly scrambled to think of something to say.

“Hey Tozier...It’s uh Eddie, just wanted to catch up. Call me back whenever...or whatever.”

He hung up the phone. What the fuck was that?

God he was anxious. He felt like his nerves were rick-rocketing around his body so he busied himself by looking over his risk reports, looking for any spelling mistakes he might have made. He messed with the colors a little bit but then changed them back, had to keep it professional. He looked back at his phone, still silent.

Richie was probably just away from his phone he reassuringly thought to himself. His feet tapped on the ground frantically. After another couple of minutes he got up and put away his dishes. He cleaned them and then the sink. It wasn't long before he was wiping down the walls and deep cleaning everything he could get his hands on which didn't take too long since he had gone over everything three times over the first day he had checked in. He then went to his closet, reorganizing his jackets and button up shirts by color.

It was about two hours later and he had basically accepted the fact that Richie didn’t ever want to talk to his sorry ass again, and really he couldn't blame him, when he finally called back. Eddie was watching a rerun of an old Frazier episode when his phone started buzzing on the side table. Richies name flashed across the screen. He reached out a steady hand and after a second hit accept and put the phone to his ear, “Rich?”

_“Ed’s holy shit I thought you died!”_

He got up from the chair and started pacing the room, his eyes squeezed shut and his fist tapping softly against his forehead as he tried thinking of an excuse,“Yeah sorry....I’ve been busy as shit with work, it’s been crazy over here,” he mentally chastised himself. Busy at work? That’s the best he could think of? There’s no way Richie would buy that after not talking to him for months.

Richie doesn’t even miss a bit, _“you sound terrible.”_

Eddie doesn’t either, “Not as terrible as your miserable old ass.”

Richie laughed and Eddie felt a wave of relief wash over him.

He forgot how easy it was with Tozier.  
________

Eddie gritted his teeth as Richies laugh crackled over the speaker phone.

“Laugh it up fuckhead, I’m hanging up.”

_“Wait wait wait(more laughing)-”_

He took one hand off his steering wheel to click the disconnect call from his car stereo. It was quiet for a moment until suddenly Richie was calling him back again. He debated for a moment on turning off his phone but just sighed and let the call go through his car speakers again, “Edward Kaspbrak speaking.”

_“Alright I'm sorry you big divorced baby, happy?”_

“I don’t even get whats so fucking funny, divorce isn’t even that uncommon you dick- half of all marriages end in divorce.”

_“I just never imagined YOU’D go through one, you seem like a hit it and never quit it kinda guy.”_

He could _still_ hear the mirth in his voice but he opted to ignore it, “she was fucking nuts dude. She needed to control everything I did and needed to know everything I was doing and where I was- ugh, It’s kind of weird but ...after I came back home from Derry, it felt like I was still in Derry. It was like living with my mom all over again.”

_“That’s not weird man… Derry fucked all of us up.”_

“Yeah..” it was silent for a second, a somber mood settling in, “hey about that….. do you… do you remember everything?”

_“Like...the clown killing part?”_

“No- No I mean before that. Like do you remember growing up in Derry? After we got our memories back?

_“Bits and pieces,”_Eddie took a long sip from his turtle mocha with too much whipped cream, he’ll have to ask for none next time, _“it’s all kind of trickling back but I still feel like I’m forgetting some major shit.”_

Eddie sighed reassuringly as he put his drink back down, “thank god, yeah me too, like I try and pinpoint a memory and it’s just fuzzy. The good thing is I feel like the more time that passes, the easier it gets to...remember everything.”

_“Yeah I feel ya,”_ it was quiet again for a moment,_ “Hey remember when you got pantsed during your graduation ceremony and everyone saw your Han Solo boxers?"_

His eyes nearly bugged out his head as an embarrassed flush spread through him. No he fucking did not remember that,“What- are you serious?”

_“Naw im just messing with you- you had Star Wars themed underwear?”_

“Don’t bother calling back.” He ended the call midway through Richies laugh.  
________

Work never used to be this fucking unbearable.

He used to be able to go to work, coffee in hand, and sit with his clients and talk to people he didn’t care about about things that could happen but probably wouldn’t and _‘yes it’s Kaspbrak spelled K-A-S-P-B-R-A-K ... no you missed the P- no I don’t know if it’s ethnic- listen can you just redo the check I’m a busy man’._

He’s biting the inside of his cheek now as he has to stop himself from flinging his body out the window as his client reads over the same sentence for the eight time. She’s smacking her lips as she’s reading the document he handed over to her and the sound ripples and echoes in the small cubed room, it’s almost painful.

“So… I need to get my employees better health care...or they’ll sue.”

He’s got a hysterical edge to his voice when he replies, “its- they might sue you either way, giving them better health care is just a way to get them off your back and possibly break up that little union until you can actually afford giving them safe conditions to work with. It wouldn’t hurt to look at better plans- it’s definitely better than them unionizing against you.”

She's grimacing now. Unions are always bad news for money hungry penny pinching bosses. They’d been at this for about two hours now and god he just wanted this to be over with. This was the last thing they needed to talk about and she was drawing it out, squeezing him for everything he had like some giant four year old with an empty capri sun.

“No, I don’t think I will,” he was going to rip his hair out, “all they do is haul wood around, when did that get so dangerous? Entitled pricks- I used to do the same shit- in worse conditions- and I never complained.”

_‘I hate you I hate you I hate you,’_ he thought.

“I feel you-” he says, “but entitled pricks or not you have to realize they have a leg up on you. Your machinery and safety protocols are not up to code. You know that, they know that, all it takes is one whistleblower and your whole business goes down. Neither side wants that.”

She leans back in her chair, glaring down at her table with her arms crossed. He hears the faraway sound of an ice cream truck playing in the distance through the open window and he imagines himself with a chocolate dipped cone just...relaxing by the lake. His suit jacket and tie are off and he’s got his eyes closed and he's just ...listening. He doesn’t even really like ice cream anymore but the urge tugs at him anyways.

“I guess I could look through the plans,” he snaps his head forehead, breaking himself out of his daydream, “the health care plans- but nothing fancy, just enough for them to shut up.”

_‘Oh so you’re going with what I’ve been telling you for the past hour? Fucking fantastic.’_

“That’s fantastic Renee, great choice.”

________

Eddie walks out of the building briskly before anyone got the bright idea to call him back, he would have gone ape-shit.

He’s making up his mind on where he’s going to get takeout when he suddenly realizes- he’s standing where he parked his car and yet… his car isn’t there. He does a double take, looking down the road to see if he misremembered and actually parked a block down but no this was definitely where he parked. So where was his fucking car?

He looked at the glaring white sign above where his car should be.

**NO PARKING**  
** 7 AM - 9 AM**  
** 4:30 PM-6:30 PM**  
** TOW AWAY ZONE**

He looked at his watch.

5:07.

He miscalculated. He was at his meeting for three hours.

His car got towed. His fucking car got towed.

If he was a better man he might have kept collected and called an uber to pick him up. He would have gone to fortune cookie and got himself some sweet and sour chicken and make himself some tea. He’d scroll through home de stressing remedies online before he inevitably settled on an AD for a detoxing spa with 50% off his first visit and go to sleep, exhausted yet content. Instead he threw his briefcase on the ground and muffled a scream into his sleeve.

He sat on the curb, waiting for his anger to slowly fade. His chest was hot and heavy, he felt like he swallowed the sun he was so mad. He pulled out his phone and went to his contacts. Richie was at the top of the list. They had been talking constantly ever since he had finally called him a couple weeks ago and just like old times if there was anyone that could talk him down it was him. If only he could come fucking pick him up too.

Suddenly as if on cue, a taxi rounded the corner. He got off the curb and quickly collected his things.

He was about to click Richies contact number when abruptly Bill Denbroughs name flashed across the screen. He looked at it surprised for a second before accepting the call, switching hands so he could use his right to flag down the taxi coming towards him.

“Bill?”

_“Eddie! Oh man, im so glad you picked up-”_ Eddie held his hand up for the taxi which proceeded to ignore him and roar past, spraying him with gravel from the road, _“listen I need your help.”_

He forced down a few intricate swears as he dusted the torn up asphalt off his suit, instead breathing out his nose a couple times angrily before replying “With what?”

_“Alright so you’re good at like...figuring out risks and stuff and analyzing shit right? I’m starting up my own small business and I need someone who knows the ins and outs with marketing and like insurance plans and I was wondering-”_

It’s too much. He sits down on a bench as the beginning of a headache starts to pulse in his head.

“Bill,” Eddie interrupted, getting increasingly more and more agitated., “If I have to talk about fucking insurance plans one more time today im going to throw myself, “he paused to take a steady breath, “off a fucking bridge, and not a small one either- I am not surviving the fall.”

_“Oh.”_ Eddie could almost _taste_ the disappointed edge in Bills voice, _“sorry.”_

“No I’m-” he sighed and suddenly felt a little guilty, Bill didn’t mean to call him at the worst possible time to hire him as a risk analyst, the guy just had the worst fucking timing, “I’m sorry man, just a long day at work today.”

_“You want to talk about it?”_

“Naw I don’t like complaining,” A lie, as he was just about to call Richie to complain his fucking guts out, “ thank you though.”

_“No problem man...alright I’ll let you be then, talk to you-”_

“Wait Bill,” he suddenly cut in. He didn’t want to feel guilty _and_ pissed off. Also he really did like talking to Bill, he was level-headed but still fun enough to joke around with, “lets talk, it’s been a while, how’s life?”

There was a pause at the end of the line as if Bill was debating on continuing the conversation before he gave an awkward cough, _“uhh- good! Lifes good… I’m writing another book… me and Audra just started seeing this new marriage counselor and she’s fantastic, brought us back from the brink and we’re seriously better then ever now it’s insane- how’s your life?”_

“Good,” Eddie replied, leaning back on the bench, “me and Myra skipped the marriage counselor and went straight to divorce.”

_“Oh shit.”_

“Yeah,” he started, he let his eyes trail over to a park in the distance, where a group of kids were chasing each other, “honestly best decision of my life, I’ve never been happier.”

_“You don’t sound happy…”_

He wanted to say something like ‘_no shit_’ but forced it back down his throat, “I know, I just fucking hate my job, I am actually happy about the divorce though.”

The line was quiet for a little, and Eddie wondered if he had just said screw it and hung up on him anyways when he spoke up again, _“maybe you should...I don't know, quit?”_

Eddie scoffed, as if that was the wildest fucking thing he ever heard, “what- I cant quit-thats not-,” he scoffed again trying to finish his train of thought, “I’m not going to quit being a risk analyst- I’m good at it, It’s good money- I mean yeah I hate it but I’m good at what I do. I just have to stomach all this resentment until the day I die like every other normal person in the entire world.”

Another pause,_“I think you’re scared.”_

Eddie bristled at the remark, “I’m just being real Bill. Everyone hates their job.”

_“I don't,”_ Bill replied under his breath as if he didn’t want Eddie to hear him. He opened his mouth and was about to tell Bill just about how much he cared about him and his perfect job and his perfect marriage… counselor when suddenly he kept talking, _“Listen Eddie, you’ve got a choice, you can stay at this job you hate and stay miserable or… you can venture out and I don’t know...find something you actually want to do- or at least can tolerate… you didn’t stab B-Bowers in the chest to be a fucking risk analyst for the rest of your life. You’re one of the smartest guys I know- you’ll find something else in no time.”_

He felt a protest rise and die in his throat.

“What would I even do?”

_“YOU’RE the risk analyst… take a risk and find out.”_

“That’s so corny.” He said, but fuck him if he didn’t feel inspired anyways. He forgot how convincing Bill became when he went on one of his speeches. His mind felt clear and he looked over at the park again, the lake shimmering in the distance.

He was only slightly annoyed when he found himself saying,

“Maybe you’re right.”  
_________

_“Sams been pissing me off,”_

Eddie hummed, balancing his phone between his cheek and shoulder as he typed on his computer distractedly,”Sam..Sam- that’s your roommate right?”

_“Yeah, the guy I, might I remind you, was kind enough to rent with because he’s my talent agents cousin or whatever. Next time my agent comes crying to me about family shit I’m gonna tell him to stuff it up his blowhole- I’m sick to death of being such a fucking saint-”_

“-Rich finish the story.”

_“Oh yeah- yeah so anyways fucker won’t tell me if he’s staying until our lease is up or if he’s leaving. I had to look up how to say ‘are you going back to your country or not’ in Chinese and you know what this prick says? ‘Only time will tell’ like what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”_

“Uh huh,”

_“Also I think he’s lying about not being fluent in english. Yesterday I got pizza and the girl saw his ornamental plates on the table and said she thought they looked nice so I told her to please just take them so I don't have to look at them anymore. The next morning my toothbrush was conveniently floating in the toilet bowl.”_

“Really?”

_“Alright well you're obviously not paying attention. This is prime conspiracy shit and you reply with ‘really’?”_

“Sorry,” Eddie said yawning as he stretched his arms up, “M’ just tired, I didn’t sleep all night.”

_“Jesus Eds, you’ll find a job, stop letting it stress you out,”_ There was an edge of worry to his voice that Eddie fondly caught on to.

“I know I just… wanna feel stable again… “

_“I can loan you some money if you-”_

“It’s not a money issue,” Eddie interrupted quickly a little embarrassed, and it really wasn’t, he had enough saved up that he could sit peacefully in a cramped hotel eating chinese takeout for years before he actually needed to really worry,” it’s more- it’s fucking stupid I know but I just wanna feel stable again. I need to get an actual place to live and some kind of, well any kind of income coming in otherwise I feel like I’m just building a bigger and bigger hole for myself.”

_“Naw that’s not stupid I get it.”_

__________

One night Eddie realizes, with a start, he can’t remember the last time he went a day without talking to Richie. He calls the other losers too but calling Richie to complain about random shit had become his new everyday routine. If Richie hadn’t called him by a certain time that day he’d call him and vise fucking versa. It felt like the good old days(memories which were slowly filtering back the more and more they talked) where they would just do and say whatever the hell they wanted to each other.

It was insane how many things he had forgotten about. One day Richie wistfully told him that he saw a couple kids playing punchie the other day and it had brought him back. The sudden onslaught of memories hit _Eddie_ like a fucking firetruck and he had blearily recollected that long forgotten flashback.

__________

“Let’s play punchies.”

Eddie looked at him quizically brows furrowed “what the fuck is that?”

“Richie don’t,” Stanley suddenly said looking over at him, which only made Richie smile wider.

“No no fuck off I wanna play, what is it?”

Stanley groaned. Richie snubbed out his cigarette on the metal bleachers before rubbing his hands together menacingly.

The three of them were standing underneath the schools outside bleachers waiting for the others to arrive. Earlier Richie had excitedly shown them a soaked through pack of cigarettes he found in an art class sink. Eddie had told him ‘you can’t actually light a damp cigarette are you stupid’ and Richie replied with ‘stop talking so much you’re messing up the flame’ as he insistantly kept trying to toy with the dryest cigarette in the pack he could find. Miraculously, after a couple tries, he did actually manage to light it and offered the rest to the other two. Before Eddie could even retort something clever about cancer or some other lung fucking up disease Stanley had reached out and grabbed one out. For a while it was just Eddie watching his two friends coughing and red faced but both too stubborn to actually stop.

“It’s easy Eds,” Richie continued. Eddie made a face at the nickname, “punchies is just punching- you keep punching each other until one of you pussies out and gives up.”

“Don’t do it Eddie,” Stanley warned coughing a little into his sleeve as he squinted teary eyed at him, “nobody actually wins it’s just a dumb game morons like Richie do to pass time.”

“Aww,” Richie started, putting on a baby voice as he clasped his hands together in fake adoration, “good old Stanley coming to defend his ‘lil boyfriend Eddie. You guys should kiss.”

Eddie threw him an annoyed glare, he hated being babied and Richie knew that, played it up whenever he could, “shut the fuck up already Tozier, I’m in.”

Richie's face lit up and Stanley rolled his eyes, turning away so he could smoke in peace.

“You know Eds, for showing such fine bravery in the face of adversity today methinks you should’st get the honor of first hit,” He said in an old timey renaissance accent for whatever reason. Probably to show off, not that Eddie would ever tell him but some of his voices _were_ actually starting to get quite good.

Rich took a couple steps towards him, looming over him with his gangly ass frame as he grinned down at him. It was senior year and Eddie was now only catching up in height with the rest of his class. But that didn’t stop Richie from letting him know just how short he still was compared to the rest of them, excluding Bill of course, not that Richie ever teased _him_ about it.

Richie angled his shoulder in front of him, peering down merrily at Eddie as he prepped for the hit, “lets see what you got little hobbit.”

Eddie pulled back his fist and punched him in the face.

Which was apparently not the right thing to do because Richie immediately reered back and let out a screech as he covered his nose with his hands, _“OW what the fuck you little bitch!”_

“What-”

“In the _shoulder!_ You’re supposed to punch each others fucking _shoulders!”_

“How the fuck was I supposed to know?!”

_“Why the hell do you think I turned-_ you son of a bitch I think you actually broke my nose-”

“-seriously? Okay just hold on- fucking stop moving let me see-”

Stanley looked disinterestedly at the scene, eyes puffy, “told you not to do it.”

__________

_“I cannot believe you actually forgot you broke my nose.”_

“Suck my dick Rich, in case you forgot I got my memories stolen by some kid eating clown.”

_“Do you remember when you tried setting my nose back in place and fucked it up? I couldn’t breathe through it right for weeks.”_

“Remember when you tried snapping my broken arm back together? Shut the fuck up.”

Richie laughed.

__________

“Fucking sit still for a second and let me take care of you.”

“Funny that’s what your mom said to me last ni- _fuck!_”

Eddie had dragged Riche back to his house. After he was finally able to calm Richie enough to let him actually see his nose he was able to deduce that yes, it was broken, a little bit. Richie had panicked when Eddie told him he needed to go home so his parents could take him to the hospital because his dad was absolutely going to kill him. They had already been a little behind on bills and a hospital visit would absolutely earn him a grounded till the World to Come kind of punishment. Eddie had hesitatingly offered to set his nose for him and before he could take it back Richie had jumped at the offer and that’s how they ended up in Eddies living room with his extremely primitive knowledge of mending broken bones.

“I can barely understand anything you're saying with your broken ass nose so you might as well save the commentary Rodney Dangerfield.”

Richie glared at him, sitting on the couch as Eddie gingerly held a towel to his nose, drying up the blood. He stood between Richie legs, one of which was bouncing up and down absentmindedly. His mom, bless the good fucking lord above, was out for the time being so they had the house to themselves. For how long he had no idea so it was a gamble when he decided to go slowly, as gentle as possible as he took two fingers to each side of his nose and softly tried straightening it out. Richie let out a low hiss through his teeth and dug his fingernails into the couch cushions. He gave him a couple seconds to recuperate, start breathing normally again, before he took his head in his hands, rotating it softly to see if he had indeed set his nose correctly.

Besides Richies incessant foot tapping and the sound of the fridge buzzing in the background it was...quiet. Richie had for once listened to him and stopped talking and instead focused his energy on watching Eddie through slitted eyes as he diligently prodded and angled his face.

They had never been this quiet this long with each other before and without their usual banter between them this friendly silence felt… off putting. The longer Richie stared at him the weirder he felt.

Why the fuck wasn’t Richie saying anything?

He suddenly felt very aware of how close they were. Richies leg was bouncing up against his shorts and with his head tilted up his breath kept ghosting over his hands, which were still diligently prodding at his swollen face. It’s not like his living room was big in any way but with the two of them nearly squashed together it felt even smaller than usual. His head almost felt foggy for some reason. He unthinkingly wiped away a bead of blood from Richies upper lip.

Richie suddenly cleared his throat forcefully and sharply turned his head away from his hands, ignoring the small indigent ‘hey!’ from Eddie,“Alright doctor Kaspbrak I think you and my face have gotten quite chummy... i’ll be on my way- just send me the bill in the mail.”

Eddie gave him a bewildered look, not that Richie could see as his face was still turned away, his expression hidden by his long dark curls.

He started standing up before Eddie pushed him back down again, hard.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not done yet-”

“-I’ll live-”

“-are you really being like this right now? _You still have blood coming out your nose-”_

Richie started to protest again as Eddie picked the towel back up. In exasperation, after Richie deliberately kept his face angled away from him he grabbed ahold of his chin forcefully, turning his face back towards him.

What Eddie was suddenly much more interested in was the very red and very visible blush on Richie's face.

Richie looked embarrassed, and almost ashamed, as if he had just got caught doing something he really wasn’t supposed to be doing. Eddie, not knowing what to say, let his hold go soft as he started wiping his bloodied face with the towel. Richie wasn’t trying to squirm out of his grasp anymore but he still wasn’t saying anything, face still red as he looked at the ground. It was too quiet and Eddie felt compelled to say something- anything to break the tension.

“Richie-”

He stopped himself. Richie...what? What was even happening? He didn’t know what to say but now suddenly Richie was staring up at him. He stared back and really wish he hadn’t because he was now suddenly eye locked with one gentle looking Richie fucking Tozier who was looking at him almost softly, hopefully, a question in his gaze. They stayed like that, just looking at each other, while the buzz from the refrigerator roared in the background.

He finally found his voice as Richie started tilting his head up, and he managed to croak out, in a panic, “did you ever finish your math homework?”

Richie froze in place. He looked quizzically up at him, his voice coming out quiet, as if scared to say anything at all, when he replied, “uhh...yeah I think so.”

Eddie cleared his throat, a vain attempt to get more spit in his dry mouth to form words with. When the fuck did talking get so convuluted, “Good cause I need my math book back.”

They stared down each other.

After a couple seconds Richie slowly started sinking back into the couch and averting his eyes. Eddie noted, pensively, that the blush had receded from Richie's face. His expression was near blank now, his eyes staring at nothing, “don’t get your panties in a twist eds, i’ll give it back tomorrow.”

Eddie didn’t reply, instead he went back to wiping the blood from his nose, his movements more rigid than before. He made himself force down a blush. It wasn’t from embarrassment, this situation was just so damn awkward. He was still trying to piece together what actually just happened. He silently finished up cleaning the blood from his face and reapplying the cold pack to his face, his hands only shaking a little.

“Alright Rich now just hold this with your right hand- yeah like that- you’re going to need to ice your nose for a while to bring down the swelling.”

Eddie took a step back to give him room and Richie stood up, still staring at him but with an embarrassed gawk to his face.

“Uhh...thanks,” he finally said. Because of his broken nose and the muffle from the ice pack it came out more like ‘thabbths’.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, his throat dry. They never did.

__________

“Bev and Ben said I could move in with them until I get back on my feet.”

_“Oooo third-wheel paradise, lucky you!”_

“_I know_! That’s what I said,” Eddie replied adding a couple sugar packets to his coffee, “they keep telling me it’s not gonna be weird but I’m not fucking stupid. They’re still in that weird honey moon phase despite being fourty- it’s cute but disgusting,” he took a few tentaive sips of his coffee before gagging and putting it down, “_ugh_ this hotel coffee tastes terrible, four fucking creamers and still bitter, jesus.”

_“Maybe they just wanna spice up their sex life,”_ Eddie got up from the table to stand in front of the mirror hanging in the tiny hallway. He readjusted the phone to clutch between his chin and shoulder so he could smooth down a couple hairs down in his reflection, _“It’s all a coy little ploy to get you into some kinky shit with them.”_

“You’re actually disgusting.”

_“Are you kidding me? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t say yes to a Ménage à Trois if they asked.”_

He rolled his eyes, he wasn’t gonna humor him, “anyways I told them no. It was promising as hell but I’d feel like too much of a burden,” he let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m debating on just leaving New York, nothings really tieing me down here and I’d rather die then pay over two thousand dollars a month for a fucking shitty apartment I’d live alone in.”

_“Even though you can afford it-”_

“-It’s the _principal_ Rich, who the fuck do they think they are charging that much for a room? Like- you should have heard this lady that was showing me the place- ‘you’ll never find a view like this from anywhere else’. I see the same fucking thousand buildings every single day of my life, I don’t care about the fucking lights I just don’t want to pay two thousand dollars for a one bedroom one bath you snakes.”

_“I mean, you could always just come stay at my place for a while.”_

Eddie stopped fidgeting with his tie for a second, staring at his reflection in disbelief.

“What? Are you serious? I thought you were already living with someone?”

_“Yeah but Sams officially going back to China in a few weeks for his moms funeral ...or his sisters,”_ he slowly started readdusting his lapels again, brows still furrowed as he turned away from the mirror, _“or for fun- honestly the dude’s cryptic as hell, he doesn’t tell me shit. Either way I need someone to cover his half of the rent until this years lease is up.”_

“Richie man, I, I don’t know- I mean- I don’t want to impose, I’m being a baby about it I haven't- I haven't even tried asking my aunt yet- ”

_“-dude if you feel weird about it no worries I’m not gonna push you to do it-”_

“It’s not that- it’s-like I don’t know-”

_“But-“_ richie suddenly interrupted him before he could finish what was probably going to be a very eloquent train of babbling on his part, _“if it’s just you thinking you’re gonna be a burden of whatever just think of it this way- you’re helping me by helping you. A half a year should be long enough for you to figure out your shit riiiight? I figure out my rent situation and you get your pick of all the sexy divorced floozies in California, it’s a win-win Eds my boy.”_

He wrinkled his nose at the nickname but otherwise ...the proposition wasn’t too bad. A half a year would be perfect to figure out what the fuck he was doing with his life. He had to wet his lips to force out the next words out of his dry ass mouth, “It’s… not the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

_“You little turd a simple thank you isn’t gonna kill ya you know.”_

_____

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading boss :)
> 
> If you want to read more leave a kudos or comment por flavor, cause positive reinforcement is the only thing that pushes me to be proactive anymore lul


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